Stasis
Chapter 1 (WIP) The tall grass swayed leisurely in the night breeze, concealing the silhouette of a lone warrior crouched in the dense foliage. Peering through the dark, he could make out the figures of the enemy soldiers stationed on the fort wall ahead of him. He quietly whispered to himself as he made one last check of his gear. "Brass helmet, chain-mail cuirass, large oval shield, short-sword, and spear. If I can-" His observations were cut short as a hand suddenly grasped his shoulder, a gentle breath blowing on his ear. Without a moment's hesitation, his hand shot out behind him, grasping his assailant's wrist before quickly snaking his other arm around the intruder's opposite thigh. Quickly throwing the person to the ground, he drew his kopis (A/N: A kopis was an ancient Greek long knife that had one cutting edge used mainly for slashing), pressing it lightly to the person's neck without further hesitation. A quiet laugh broke the tense silence, confusing him. Why would a Roman be laughing while facing death? Looking down with a confused expression, he was greeted by the face of his comrade, who's laughter only intensified as he stared, dumbfounded. "Dio, are you seriously that tense? We haven't even started the attack!" "Gods Lysa, you scared me. Zeus' beard, yes I'm tense! You know just as well as I do what the stakes are!" Lysandra, his companion, pouted, "You're always so serious and never any fun Dio. It was just a prank. Besides, what can a bunch of these barbarians do against us Greek demigods? We've practically won the battle!" He closed his eyes, sighing in exasperation at her bravado, "These barbarians conquered our lands in less than a year and defeated our combined armies. Not to mention the fact that they have twice our numbers." Lysa immediately shot up to her feet, placing her hands on her hips before teasing him lightly, "My my, it's like you want the Romans to win. They didn't have us back then. We'll be triumphant, the oracle at Dodona promised us this." As she said this, Diodorus looked at her as she spoke and seeing her so full of an absurd sense of confidence, he began to chuckle. They were facing more an army larger than their's and yet here she was acting as if they'd already won. Frowning again, she looked down at him, punching his shoulder. "I was serious there! We're going to win!" "If you say so Lysa...if you say so." "Defeatist!" "No, just a realist." There was a shuffling from their right and they both tensed momentarily before relaxing, spotting the familiar sight of one of their archers. The child of Apollo nodded once, signalling that the small force of demigods were now ready. Getting to his feet, he raised his fist, clenching it tightly. From the vegetation, the silhouettes of several archers emerged, bows raised and arrows nocked. With several muffled twangs, the archers released their deadly projectiles, the shafts arcing silently towards their targets. There several muffled thumps as the fist shaped arrowsheads found their markers in the vulnerable necks of the Roman sentries, causing them to crumple like straw dolls to the camp wall. Drawing his kopis, he motioned for the rest of his force to follow suit as he ran towards the two soldiers that he'd already sent forwards. Breaking into a run, he